


WHUMP TO KINK TOBER 2020 DAY 18

by CuteCabaret



Series: WHUMP TO KINK TOBER 2020 [17]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Coercion, F/F, Femslash, Kinktober 2020, PWP, Panic Attacks, Sexual Coercion, Whumptober 2020, dubcon, femmeslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:22:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27097267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuteCabaret/pseuds/CuteCabaret
Summary: Back in the lab, Poppy is forced to try to bargain for freedom.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Series: WHUMP TO KINK TOBER 2020 [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950670
Kudos: 4





	WHUMP TO KINK TOBER 2020 DAY 18

**Author's Note:**

> Noncon/dubcon~. I feel like I end up repeating certain themes and prompts over and over again but consider: I like it. It's not my fault whump and kink keep aligning in specific ways...OTL
> 
> Prompt: Panic attack to coercion
> 
> Comments are appreciated! ouob

It felt like she had just broke the surface tension of water, coming up for air, before being immediately shoved down to drown again. Her meal tray was all over the floor, in one piece – thank you safety plastic – but her food, only half touched, had spilled completely. Her eyes raked over the floor, skimming past the mess and darting to corners and dark shapes and shadows. She took a step off the bed and recoiled like it burned, crouching back into a ball. The air in the room seemed to evaporate, and her vision was starting to go spotty. She turned her gaze to the ceiling, watching the camera’s sparkle with their malevolent gaze, feeling in her very bones that on the other side of the lenses were a whole host of nerdy lab techs laughing maniacally at her misfortune – or taking meticulous notes on their fancy clipboards, checking off every box and making sure every cruel task on that list was completed. Amazing that nobody had come in person, yet, to interview her and figure out how and why she’d lost her marbles this time – wasn’t that important to document? For science?

The answer, of course, the secret reason behind this current spiral into the pits of hell, was good old “I have been staring at these walls too long.” Sure, they swapped out the reading material every so often, and she had plenty of invasive tests to keep her busy, but every room had the same background: sterile hospital. She’d also lost track of time long ago, and it dawned on her, her chest tight and constricting, that she’d probably never get out of here. There was hardly any in person orderly visits that she was fully awake for anymore, which made that plan of exchanging affection and obedience for freedom fly right out the window. Her stomach clenched tightly, and her nostrils flared, waiting for her vision to go hazy and dark any minute now – or maybe not. She wasn’t exactly attached to any machines that would scream at her rising heart rate, so all they had to go on was her agitated pacing around her prison cell, neatly sidestepping the pile of discarded food. That in itself probably showed enough restraint that they didn’t think to intervene.

At the height of her paranoia, when the world did spin but not in the way she expected, she heard the sharp click of the door opening and her gaze went right to it, pupils all dilated and wide. She tensed up again, backing into the corner of her bed, and flinched when a gloved hand came to rest itself on her shoulder. Fingers forced her to look at their face, and she hissed and struggled when she realized it was that same woman who she was trying to win over all this time. Come to rub it in her face that she was trapped here? To gloat? To just harass her and make things worse?

“My, you look like you missed me.” She shoved a gloved hand between Poppy’s legs and for a split second Poppy had the bright idea to redouble her efforts in the plan – and then that idea dissipated, a candle that got blown out, by the sinking remembrance that she was actually stuck here forever, probably. Still, it was always in her best interest to behave, at least for this, so she gave an appropriate mewl and tried to lift her hospital gown up for easier access. This was easier to endure than the experiments – at least she got pleasure out of feeling latex clad fingers run up and down her entrance, and feeling the air circulation around her nipples, now bare as she struggled to take off the gown fast enough. Finally the ties came undone and the woman in the lab coat ripped the thing off of her. She watched it float to the floor, narrowly missing the pile of food, reminding her that someone would probably come in soonish to clean it, or they would if they were watching the cameras. Were they watching the cameras? Right now she hoped not, because if they were, it would most likely be her fault for making needy squeals at how her nipples were being prodded and pushed and squeezed, and not the woman’s for digging her fingers into Poppy’s slit in the first place. It still made her sick to her stomach to just lie back and take it – she was owed some form of participation, if she was going to graciously allow some strange woman to come and use her like this, so she reached out for the woman’s top, groping, trying to find where the breasts were hiding. There was always a tiny sliver of possibility that making this fun for her assailant would reward her in some way, if not in escape, then at least more engaging magazines or something, and the feeling of the woman’s round boobs, nipples finally located and growing harder and harder as Poppy fondled them through the layers of fabric, made Poppy wetter and wetter and thus, the woman’s fingers slid in and out easier and easier, gliding perfectly over Poppy’s clit. Through the mist of every touch and caress and tug and pull and pinch, it dawned on Poppy that it had actually been a while since these games last happened, so when the woman moaned “Keep this up and I’ll let you out…”, Poppy believed her. It was believe an obvious lie, or fall back to the spiral of panic and despair again, and at least being able to unbutton the woman’s lab coat and snake her hands underneath the scrubs was fun, comparatively. Her fingers found her prize and she gave the woman’s nipples a hard squeeze, heat blossoming from her groin at the noise the woman made. She arched her back, trying to get the woman’s fingers deeper inside her without actually asking for it, because directly asking right now would be a level of acceptance too far. The woman got the hint anyway, pushing one finger to the hilt and slipping in another one, stroking inside and pressing on her g-spot while her thumb ran up and down Poppy’s tiny pink nub, and her other hand massaged Poppy’s chest. Truthfully, Poppy would love mouth action, but with surgical masks, she had to just make do with the fantasy of the woman putting her head between Poppy’s thighs.

If she pretended hard enough, those fingers exploring inside of her easily turned into a tongue, and, pushing the envelope even further, there was no reason why this had to be the same lab tech or whoever at all. Closing her eyes and panting hard, it became Tina on the other end of her instead, Tina who tweaked her nipples and moaned as she keened in pleasure, Tina who’s mouth was all over her, tugging on her labia and pressing deep inside of her. She could see it now, beautiful brown nipples, perky and erect in response to how she rubbed them and pinched them, spread out underneath Poppy on their shitty twin mattress in a shoe box apartment, and definitely not actually a somewhat stranger in scrubs looming over her, while she was stuck in a locked hospital room. The illusion shattered as she came, keening and whispering Tina’s name as she tightened around the fingers inside of her. They pulled out as soon as she was done, perhaps a little too quickly, and Poppy was left to face reality again, all of the enjoyment she just experience swept away with Tina’s face turning back into surgical caps and masks.

And just like that, the woman turned and left, not even bothering to clean up or anything, and Poppy was left feeling very sour and empty.


End file.
